


Shellshocked

by smolderingskies



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - The Little Mermaid Fusion, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Mermaid Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 09:51:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15683001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolderingskies/pseuds/smolderingskies
Summary: When Jesse McCree meets you, you are a mermaid in a human body, excited to explore the world on land.  But when water is accidentally spilled on you, you're worried that he won't accept you in your true skin.  Pure fluff!





	Shellshocked

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my Overwatch imagines Tumblr, overwatch-summer-reads, as requested by an anonymous asker.

In the same way the light refracts on the ocean floor mesmerises humans, so you were mesmerised by the whorls of people and heat and food on the seashore, which you would watch from underneath the docks even as a young girl, venturing much too far from the rest of your people. When you started coming on land, you knew you were in love with the culture - but you never knew you’d fall in love with one of the people.

You’d been bouncing down the seediest street of an off-season beach town - not that you knew that it was seedy, because of how enamored you were with the neon lights and the jarring myriad of sounds, the texture of rough asphalt beneath your uncalloused feet, the warmth that enveloped and held you, so unlike anything you’d experienced underwater. He was standing outside a bar in jeans and a white t-shirt and spurred leather boots, smoking a cigar. He took one look at the scavenged floral dress, tight around your chest and flowing all the way down to your bare toes, and an amused grin spread across his face. He adjusted his wide-brimmed hat, and you thought he looked rather accessorized.

“You lost, l’il lady?”

His words sounded a bit like an offer. You bit your lip and glanced about. You didn’t feel lost, you supposed, but you also didn’t know where you were or where you were going next. Finally, you beamed at him.

“Not anymore!”

He hummed a bit, flicking ashes off the end of his cigar. He looked at you as if he wasn’t sure quite what he had gotten himself into.

* * *

His name was Jesse, and he was a military man, so to speak. He showed you his guns, which were unlike any weapons you’d seen before, so small and compact, and they packed a big punch. Once, he took you to a shooting range and guided your wrists, laughing heartily at every gasp and exclamation of surprise you made.

That first night, he showed you around the beach town, and the two of you just talked. He didn’t mind when you followed him back to his motel room, assuming correctly that maybe you didn’t have anywhere else to go. Ever the gentleman, he slept on the floor and let you take the bed.

Every day he asked you where you were from, and when you refused to answer, he never pushed more than that. He took you to nightclubs, allowing you to dance and flash your excited gaze at others, stepping in when it seemed that someone was getting too close and pulling you away, dancing with you until you were breathless and laughing. He bought you drinks at first, which you vehemently refused, trading them in for things like cocktail shrimp and salty french fries. He’d bring you back to the hotel in a bridal carry room while you, exhausted, babbled on his shoulder. He nestled you on the bed, braiding your long, tangled hair, murmuring to you words you couldn’t focus on long enough to hear just moments before you fell asleep.

One morning, he took you down to the seashore, where the pulsing of the ocean reminded you of where you had come from. But you didn’t want to return - not with what you’d found here. He walked you down to the water, and you laughed and whirled him away from the lapping waves. “I don’t like to swim,” you said, but you walked him down to the docks, the ones you had watched people from underneath a lifetime ago. It was there that he lifted you against one of the wooden beams and kissed you, tobacco and whiskey on his tongue. You ran your fingers through his hair, traced your nails down his back. You stuck your thumbs through his belt loops.

* * *

At the seaside shack restaurant, you nibbled on your latest obsession - fried clams, a delicacy that never would have occurred back at home, since nothing could be fried underwater. Once again, Jesse was asking you where you were from, and you giggled, shaking your head. He should know this part of the game by now - but he seemed more serious than normal, and finally he let out a breath.

“You should know… they want me back. On the field. Soon.”

You were shellshocked. Never once had you considered that he would be forced to go away - even though it had only been a short time since you met Jesse, this life had seemed permanent to you. It was your new life, one you loved much more than your old one, and he was an inherent part of it. You laughed nervously, putting down the clam in your fingers.

“How soon?”

He was shaking his leg beneath the bar, his hands clasping his hair. “Tomorrow.”

“That short notice?” But you had just gotten here, and you weren’t ready to let this - to let him - go.

“I wanna take you home,” he said, turning urgently to make eye contact with you, grabbing your wrist. “I need to take you somewhere I know you’re safe, so I can find you again.”

“No,” you said, wrenching your arm away from him. “I - I need to think.”

You slid off the barstool and hurried away. He slapped cash onto the bar, he was following. “Wait, we can talk about this—”

In your rush, you bumped into another restaurant patron, who was holding a glass of water. It spilled on you, freezing cold and dripping. You stopped, surprised, then suddenly scared. You turned around, your voice rising in pitch and urgency.

“Jesse—”

He was already getting ready to fight the man who’d spilled water all over you, who was profusely apologizing. He wasn’t helping.

“Jesse, please listen.” Your voice was panicked, frantic. He turned to look at you. You were hyperventilating. Tears sprung to the corners of your eyes.

“You need to get me down to the water.”

“To the ocean? But you hate swimming.”

“Jesse, please.” He could tell something wasn’t right, and for another excruciating moment he hesitated. He scooped you into his arms and walked out the door of the restaurant, but he wasn’t going fast enough. “Run,” you whispered, fearful tears streaming down your cheeks. The scales were already forming on your chest, visible to him, and your legs were beginning to fuse together. The transformation was not painful, as you feared it might be - but it was still horrifying, quicker than you wanted, faster than you had words to explain.

He noticed, and broke into a sprint.

By the time you reached the water, your tail had grown in completely, scales covering your stomach and chest, your hands turning webbed, something a little less than human. He ran into the water, still fully clothed, you in his arms, until you were submerged. He crouched in the water, coming face-to-face with you, and you were ashamed for him to see you this way. But he touched your cheek.

“This is where you’re from,” he said, recognition on his face, but also a struggle with coming to terms with reality. “This is why you wouldn’t tell me.”

You were silent, flipping your turquoise tail in the water in almost a fit of rage, rage toward the force that had allowed this to happen. You could have lived a whole life with him, and now he knew - that you weren’t human. You’d never be human in his eyes again.

He spoke. “You - you could have told me,” he said, choking a bit. “You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” And when you looked in his eyes, you were surprised to see that he wasn’t lying, that he was admiring you, even in your strangeness.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” you said, coughing on your tears. “We can’t be together. This,” you gestured to yourself, your clawed, webbed hands gestured to the rest of you, “this is me. No matter how hard I try to be human, I can’t stay human.”

“We can work this out. I - we have the resources.” He took a moment to gather his words. “Look, you are - you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Please, trust me. If not now, then when?”

And when you saw the pleading in his eyes, you knew that you would trust him. He would try for you, and you for him, as sure as the push and pull of the tide.


End file.
